The Tribute: The First Annual Hunger Games
by Itsssmegsss
Summary: After a large rebellion, the Capitol finally regain control of the country, and to show them who's boss, they decide to host an annual event, called 'The Hunger Games'. When Brianna Valero, from District 2, is chosen to partake in the games, will she survive, or will she crumble at the hands of the Capitol?
1. Chapter 1

**The First Annual Hunger Games - Brianna Varelo**

**Authors Note: Hello! So this is my first Fan Fiction and I'm really excited! I write for fun, and I thought it would be nice to share some of my work with you :) Please review so that I know how I can improve. I have another chapter, but I'm waiting to see if people actually read this so that I know whether to carry on or not. I've spent a long time writing this, but I really enjoy doing it! I hope you guys enjoy reading it too! Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the story 'The Hunger Games', just the characters :)**

** Chapter One**

Today is the day of the reaping. I don't really know what to expect to be honest… After the war the Capitol managed to settle everybody down, and to show us who's in charge, they decided to host an event called 'The Hunger Games' once every year, which will be shown on everyone's televisions around the country. Sort of like a reality TV show to entertain the residents of the Capitol. That's ironic, since no one from the Capitol will actually partake in The Hunger Games, they will just be the viewers. I despise the Capitol; their ridiculous outfits and their stupid accents. They should all go to hell. Especially President Snow. I would never admit it out loud though, because if anyone heard I would most likely be executed immediately.

We haven't been told every single detail, but I pretty much know the how it works. There will be a name draw, with every name of every kid aged twelve to eighteen and two will be picked out from each district (a boy and a girl). The poor kids from places like district 12 are allowed to put their names in multiple times, and when they do this the Capitol reward them with one years' worth of food. Being from district 2, me and my older sister, Zara, will not be needing to do that. Then again, pretty much none of the kids from here will, since most of us are rich. Our district is really lucky, actually. Due to our loyalty to the Capitol during the rebellion, we have been given better treatment and living conditions, which cannot be said for some other districts. I also know that all twenty four of the tributes will be fighting to the death in a large arena, cut off from the rest of society, until there is one person left, who will be crowned as victor. The victor will spend the rest of their lives showered with gifts and glory, and surprisingly, everyone sees this as the best reward imaginable. Yet I do not. Horrific memories of brutally murdering other innocent children would be permanently imprinted on their brain, and would haunt their dreams forever. To me, winning seems more like a punishment than a prize. It depends on how far you are prepared to go in order to survive.

Since one year ago, when President Snow announced the Capitols decision to hold 'The Hunger Games', my parents have paid a great deal for intense weaponry and self-defence training. Most of the kids from where I'm from have too, and I've heard that kids from districts 1 and 4 are doing this as well. All our parents are paranoid that we'll get picked, so they want to make sure were fully prepared if we do. In fact, my father works making weapons, so he got his hands on one rather easily. This means that I also have the option to practice in my free time – not that I like doing it. I hate it. I get the shivers whenever I feel the cool metal in my hands, I feel like even holding the weapons are dangerous.

I even heard that some people are _excited _for the games, and have been training hard, so that when they are maximum age for taking part, in a few years, they can volunteer… for fun. I find that sick to be honest. It is one thing killing someone out of desperation, but to murder people just for your own enjoyment is disgusting. Although knowing how to fight will give me an advantage during the games, it will not help if I'm faced with a large, 18 year old guy, though… especially if they are a career. That is the nickname we have adopted since people in our district began training, and other districts are beginning to fear us quite a lot, which is not a bad thing, I guess.

My alarm goes off, reminding me that it is six o'clock and I need to get up. I slowly pull myself out of my large, four poster bed and hobble over to my bathroom. I look into the mirror and see a skinny, 15 year old girl, with long, wavy brown hair staring back at me. I am average high, with a narrow build and absolutely no muscles what so ever. If I'm going to be completely honest with myself, I would stand no chance in the games if I got chosen, despite the fact that I am rather handy with weapons. "Brianna!" My mother calls from downstairs, "Are you up? We need to leave for the reaping in an hour."

"Yes mother, I know." I reply to her as I hop into the shower. I feel the boiling hot water start to spray on my back, but I don't care. All I can think about is the reaping, and what would happen if I got chosen. How long would I last? A day? An hour? Maybe not even a few minutes… Even if I didn't die straight away, how would I get food? I know how to make basic traps for rats and squirrels, but that's about it. During the war I had to learn things like that in order to survive. My parents and sister became ill, so it was down to me to find food for the family. It was not easy but I managed, and now I've taken away a few skills with me from that terrible time. My older sister, Zara, who is eighteen, would have a much higher chance of survival than me during the games, as she is strong and tougher than me. If I got picked she would definitely volunteer to take my place. I know she would… wouldn't she? I look at the clock on the wall and realize that I have been standing in the shower for 15 minutes, doing nothing. I hastily step out and grab the towel next to me to dry myself with.

Once I am fully dried I turn to my large wardrobe and start deciding on clothes to wear. What kind of attire is required at an occasion like this? I'm assuming formal, so I sift through all of my elegant dresses. I'm not really a dress kind of person. You would have thought that I would love dressing up in posh clothes, going to my parent's rich friend's house parties, but I don't. I feel unnatural in them, like I shouldn't be wearing them. I was quite young when the war broke out, and most of the time I was wearing dirty rags as a poor excuse for clothes, living on the street. I feel a stab of guilt inside of me when I remember my best friend, Jett. He would help me scavenger for food for our families, and we were really close. Closer than I am to any of my 'friends' at school. When the Capitol finally regained control of the country again, he was sent to the poorest district of all: District 12. It's not fair. How come I have been blessed with wealth and he has been sent to the slums District… I remember what I'm meant to be doing and I open my creaky wardrobe door. I find a suitable dress that I like, and pull it over my head. It is velvet blue, knee length and has a white lace collar. I pin my fringe to the side, out of my face, and apply a tiny bit of mascara. I could almost pass as pretty. Maybe.

"Oh, you look beautiful Brianna." My mother says proudly as I walk into the kitchen. I strongly disagree with her, but there is no point arguing back. I do not want to quarrel with any of my family today. Just in case. Just in case this is the last time I see them. The thought stings me inside. I love my family too much to lose them, and the guilt would be overwhelming if the last words I exchanged with them were spiteful. My mother is sitting at the table devouring her breakfast. She eats excessively when she is nervous or stressed (you would never be able to tell - she is skinnier than me!), and right now I think that is the reason she is eating such great amounts. I see a plate of scrambled eggs waiting for me on the table as well. I don't feel like eating right now. I feel a bit sick, actually. I just keep reassuring myself that me and Zara will be fine. I sigh and perch myself on the stool as I begin to ingest in the food slowly. Even if I am not hungry, I have learnt to appreciate all the food that I am given, since in the war we were all starving, getting no more than a slice of bread most days or if we were lucky a cooked rat. You never realize how easy your life is until something disastrous happens, and then it is too late. That is why I now am fully grateful for everything that I am given, because I never know when I will lose it.

**So thank you for reading! Please review to tell me what you think! And follow the story if you want to know more! Thanks again! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hello! So here's chapter two! Hope you enjoy :)**

**Chapter Two**

I apprehensively stand amongst other 15 year old year girls, scanning the crowd for Zara. My eyes finally find hers and she gives me an encouraging smile, yet it does not reach her eyes. I turn away, worried that if I look at her for too long I will burst into tears. In front of me is a large stage, with screens lining the rear of it and a microphone sitting in the middle. I also see cameras placed everywhere, ready to capture every single detail of what happens today. On either side of me are girls that I know from school, yet an eerie silence is present and no one, not even one of the annoying, garrulous girls, is willing to talk. Not that I blame them. It is evident that everyone else is equally as anxious as me, but many of them do not have the burden of having to worry about another sibling as well as themselves. Then I remember, Jett. If he has survived the hardship of living in District 12, then he will also be entered at the reaping, and there is no doubt that he will have signed up to the tesserae. He would do anything to help his mother and younger brothers to survive, and that includes adding his name more times than is compulsory. Great. That's another person that I've got to worry about now. _Keep calm Brianna, _I tell myself soothingly. I feel panic rising within me, and I fret that if I do not try and control it then it will consume me.

Suddenly, a loud bang occurs behind me, followed by multiple, ear-splitting screams, then some more bangs. Sounds like a gun. I spin around to see a dozen or so Peace Keepers restraining people from something I can't comprehend. I am rather small, so in order to see what the fuss is about I stand on my tippy toes and search for the source of the scream. I spot a small, shrivelled body crumpled on the floor with blood pouring out of holes everywhere, and next to it a weeping woman trying to get to him. He is only young. Probably only twelve or thirteen. He must have gotten scared and tried to run away. Any smart person would know that no good could come from doing that. After the five year rebellion, the Capitol have become extremely paranoid about an uprising. If someone attempts to run away from the reaping and come back unharmed or unpunished, then others will see this as their chance to do the same. Peace Keepers have been ordered to be strict when enforcing rules, making no exceptions. We have all witnessed the harshness of the Peace Keepers before. What an ignorant child.

The girl next to me nudges me, I think her name is Cassie (she used to be in some of my classes at school), and pulls me out of my daze. She nods her head to the front, silently signalling for me to turn around, and I realize that everyone else is facing the front apart again from me. I get distracted way too easily. I hurriedly rotate my body back around, not wanting too many eyes on me, to see a strange, eccentric looking man, with luminous orange hair plastered to his head, standing centre stage. Well he is obviously from the Capitol. No one else from this District, or _any _District would have the audacity to wear that in public. Although I'm not fanatical about fashion, I can't help but analyse his absurd tastes. On his upper torso he wears an incredibly tight vest top, covered in thousands of tiny sequins, and on top of that is a bright purple leather jacket. On his bottom half he is dressed in a pair of orange skinny jeans, a similar colour to his extravagant hair, which are shiny in the bright morning sun. I bet if you looked too close then the blatant light would blind your eyes.

The odd-looking man steps up to the podium and clears his throat to get our attention. "Good morning boys and girls!" he calls enthusiastically, "My name is Perlo, and I will be your Districts escort from now on." What kind of a name is _Perlo_? Stupid Capitol names… they make me cringe. "So. Today is the day we have all been waiting for! The day of the reaping!" He seems to be enjoying this too much for my liking. "As you all know, today I will be choosing two lucky individuals from the audience," _Lucky? What's he on?! _"To take part in The Hunger Games, where you will be fighting twenty three other tributes to the death!" He says the words "fighting to the death" so flippantly that it makes my blood boil. How could anyone go through with this? How could anyone go through with killing innocent people, just to prove a point? _Perlo _continues, "As I am sure you are all aware, we will be watching a short clip, enlightening you on the history of Panem, and the victory of the Capitol." He looks towards the large screens eagerly, when they light up and start to lecture our districts residents about the 'incredible victory of the Capitol'. I zone out at this point, totally uninterested. Why would I want to be gloated to about my Districts defeat, and the loss of my one and only best friend? There is nothing that the Capitol could do to cause me to liken unto them now. Not after all the harm they have caused my friends, my family. The deaths they caused in my district.

When the video is complete, Perlo has his head held high in pride, and wipes an invisible tear from his eye. "So, now that you have all witnessed they wonders of the Capitol, let's see who will be our contestants for this year!" _Oh great. _I feel sick to my stomach in anticipation. He walks over to a small, glass bowl to the right of the stage, which went by unnoticeable earlier. I flick my eyes to the left hand side of the stage, and notice there is another bowl, identical to the one that Perlo is approaching. They must have all of the girls and boys names in. "And our girl tribute for District 2 this year is …" he says whilst plunging his hand into the tank of white paper. He pulls out one of the small slips and carefully unfolds it, "Brianna Valero!" he announces merrily. Idiot. He has no idea… _Wait – What? _Brianna Valero. That's me. Why is he reading my name out? I'm not meant to get picked. Things like this don't happen to me. Not me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Hello! I finally have chapter 3! Sorry - it's a bit short, but there was only so much I wanted to be included in this chapter - the rest is saved for the next one. I'll stop going on now. Here you have it!**

**Chapter 3**

A sudden realization hits me, when I remember why I am here. _I am here at the reaping for the first Hunger Games, and I have just been chosen to be a tribute. _My heart sinks, like an anchor hitting the bottom of the ocean. Out of hundreds of girls, I got picked. I never win things like raffles or prizes. Why does this have to be the time to start? I hear a round of hushed gasps from my friends and acquaintances in the crowd. They are expressing some shock for me, but mostly relief that they have been spared for a year. I am shaking and I can't think straight. I try so hard to keep the tears in, but it is impossible. I know I will look weak if I cry, but I really can't help it. I am terrified. I feel tears start to stream down my face, and I keep my head down in shame. I can feel eyes everywhere glued to me, and slowly, the crowd start to part, making a path leading to the isle in between the boys and the girls. I reluctantly start walking forward, stumbling as I do. After what feels like eternity, I get to the middle isle and see people giving me sympathetic smiles, some people nodding their heads. I take I glance at the nervous families, all gathered behind the boys and girls, when my mothers eyes meet mine. She looks startled and panic-stricken. She is obviously as shocked as me that I have been chosen. All of a sudden, from the back of the crowd, I hear a strong, familiar voice shouting, "No!" _Zara_, "Briana! They can't take you away from me!"_ Be quiet Zara_, I think to myself, worried for her life as well as my own. The Peace Keepers do not take well to fuss makers. She calls something again. _Stop it._ "Let me go to the games, don't take my sister! I volunteer!" I stop in my tracks. I knew that she would volunteer for me. A giant weight is lifted off of my shoulders. _Thank you_,_ Zara_. She starts confidently running forward, and everybody's eyes are focused on her. As she passes me, she hugs me tightly, desperately, and approaches the stage. What am I doing? My brave, benevolent, selfless sister is sacrificing her self for me without any doubt in her mind, and I am letting her do it? How can I be so selfish? This is the answer: _I cant_. "No. I do not want you do volunteer, I want to do this. Please, let me." I call out shakily, not leaving myself time to back down. This is for Zara. "What are you doing?", she asks sharply, agitated. I ignore her and use all the will power I have to step up to the stage. "Here we have Brianna Valero, our girl tribute from District 2! Congratulations!" Perlo roars, waiting expectantly for a response, yet he receives none. "Ok, now lets find out who our boy tribute will be for District 2", he mutters, rather flustered. He is used to rambunctious, ignorant Capitol audiences. Like I have said many a time, I hate the Capitol.

While Perlo is crossing the stage, I glance at Zara. She looks distraught. A wave of remorse goes through me, but I just remind myself that I am doing this for her. There is no doubt in my mind that I will die; I would much rather me than her. She is talented, beautiful, selfless, compassionate - I could go on forever listing all of her exceptional virtues. I know that she will she serve a good life, get married, have a family. As for me... I will easily be omitted from everybody's minds. I am not clever, not pretty, and in no way whatsoever desirable. I don't mean to sound self-deprecating, but I know that it is true. It is better for Zara and my mother this way. Less painful.

"And our male tribute to be taking part in the Hunger Games this year is..." He pauses whilst yet again plunging his hand into the bowl of small, neatly folded papers, "Raze Reynor!" A surge of relief washes through me when I hear his name. I was becoming increasingly worried that I would know the other male tribute. Luckily I do not - although I do recognize the name, probably from school. Nevertheless, the name is of no significant worth to me. The large crowd in front of me quickly parts as I see a tall, muscular figure advancing towards the stage. He is quite tanned, has dark brunette hair and looks rather arrogant, although, I've got to admit; he is quite good looking, but is arrogance completely undermines that. _Oh great_. I stand absolutely no chance against him. As he approaches me he flashes me a broad smile and winks at me, before proudly walking to the left hand side of the stage. _So cocky_. He doesn't even realize what he's about to do - he's treating it like a fun little game. He already knows he's won though. His eyes flick from my face down to my feet, scrutinizing every inch of my figure. I am like his prey and he is the predator, getting ready to pounce. Now that he's seen me cry, he thinks I am weak, and I will be one of his first targets. _I can't let him kill me_.

It's like a switch flicks inside of me, and instead of feeling scared and vulnerable, I am filled with a kind of determination I have not experienced since my time in the war. I will prove him wrong, and I will win. I will win for myself, and I will win for my family. "So here we have our two tributes from district 2!" Perlo calls, although I can tell that he is not very fond of our district already, due our unresponsive crowd, I suppose. District 2 are actually one of the most loyal districts to the Capitol, but everyone has lost a bit of their respect towards them since they announced the opening of 'The Hunger Games'. Not only have they put most parents' children's lives in jeopardy, but they have also forced many of us to take expensive hard core fitness and weaponry training, so that in the unlikely case of us being chosen at the reaping, we are prepared. "Families of our two tributes may have a 5 minute visiting time, before we head off to the glorious Capitol! Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" At that moment, we are seized by 2 Peace Keepers and escorted to the doors at the back of the stage. The large double doors open to reveal a large hall, and as they close behind us we are enveloped into darkness.

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Please review and follow! It would really make my day if you did. Thank you again :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The lights flash on and Raze is standing by my side, in which I take the time to finally get a better look at him. He has dangerous eyes, which are an extremely dark brown colour, and in some lights it looks like his eyes are just black pits. He is wearing a tight, plain black top which is shows off his incredibly large abs and biceps, and a pair of dark jeans. He has evidently put many hours into working out and training. Now is the moment that I realize how dangerous he really is. I need to make sure that the prior to entering the games, I keep my eye on him the whole time, and anyone else who looks like a potential threat, and make sure I am aware of all of their weaknesses. That is the only way I can become victor. I recall what I was saying to myself only earlier today, about how winning seems to be more like a punishment than a prize. Well now, that phrase means nothing to me. I do not care about the gifts and the glory I will receive in the process, I only care about my survival. If I do not survive this then I don't know how my mother will handle it. She is not a very stable person. I am resolute that I will win. But I need a strategy.

Raze catches me surveying him and I quickly avert my eyes. "Like what you see?" he asks haughtily. My cheeks fill with blood and I ignore his comment. "Lost for words? That's a real shame, since when I kill you, which will be very soon, I will ask you make your last ones. Better get practicing soon then." he adds with a taunting grin. I hate him already. Perlo interjects, "It's lovely to see that your tributes are already bonding! I'm afraid that I'm going to have to split you up now though. Raze, I ask that you go to the room on my left, and Brianna you go to the room on my right. You can wait in there for your families, who will be arriving in a matter of minutes." I gladly turn my back to Raze and make my way to the small room. In my peripheral vision I can see a Peace Keeper either side of me escorting me to the room. I open the heavy, oak door and peer inside. All that is in the room is a hard, wooden bench at the far end of it. As I close the door behind me, there is a small clicking sound, that suggests the door is now locked. I try out my theory and am correct. Sighing, I walk over to the bench and sheepishly sit down.

I need a strategy, and fast. Well, they already think that I'm weak, and there is no persuading them other wise, so I need to find a way to use that to my advantage. They do not know I can fight, and they do not think I have any strong intentions of winning. As far as I know, everybody, except my parents and Zara, are unaware that I can aim a knife and a spear with perfect precision. I just need to convince them that I am a weak-willed, stupid little girl. That can't be hard. They've seen me cry, Raze managed to embarrass me with ease, and I have not even had the courage to speak to him yet. During training, I will not show any of my skills. I will pretend to have no talents whatsoever, then during the games when the other tributes approach me, their aim being to kill me, they will not know what hit them. The longer that I think about this ingenious plan of mine, the more sure I am of my odds of survival.

The door suddenly bursts open, revealing a teary, yet angry Zara. "How could you do that? Why didn't you let me go? What have you gotten yourself into?" She bombards me with a million questions, and I'm struggling to get my head round them. I quickly rush to the door to close it, not wanting anyone to overhear our conversation. "Look Zara, I'm sorry but, I did it for you. Now Please don't get angry, or upset. I will win these games. Just trust me." She looks like she is about to argue back but she resists. She is trying so hard to prevent the tears, but she concedes, and tears start streaming down her face. "I just don't want to lose you, and I don't think mum could handle it if you..." She stops talking, but I know what she was about to say, she just couldn't bring herself to say it. I pull her into a tight hug, and I can fell the urgency in it as she squeezes me more. A Peace Keeper barges the door open and roughly pulls Zara out. "I love you Bri. Now go win them games." She shouts, before the door slams shut forcefully. _Where were my parents?_

My question is answered when the door swings open and my hysterical mother runs in, embracing me desperately. "I love you so much Briana." my mothers whispers into my ear. I pull back and give her a reassuring smile. "Why didn't you let Zara volunteer for you?" She asks me, wiping tears from her face, then leading me over to sit on the bench. "I was being selfish. I couldn't just let her die for me." I reply after thinking about it for a while. My mother pulls me in for a hug again, realizing that this may be the last time she ever hugs me. "Just promise me you'll win Briana. Just promise me that. I do not know if I could handle it if I lost you... I love you so much." _I will mother, I promise._ "I have a plan. Just trust me, mother." I assure her. "Where is father?" I ask, when I suddenly remember that he is not present. My mother sighs and looks down into her lap. "He was at work when they called him to come. They would not let him leave. He told me to tell you that he loves you and he knows that you are capable of winning." I jump at the sound of the door swiftly opening, and the Peace Keeper grabs my mother and pulls her out. "Win. For me."The door abruptly slams and I am left yet again in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I can hear the low buzz of the electric train in the back ground whilst we are eating our tremendous banquet. Well, I don't find it tremendous, but it is evident that Raze certainly does. The banquet consists of spaghetti bolognaise, burgers, fries, prawns, a giant turkey, prawns, coleslaw, roast potatoes, and countless other delights. Raze is sitting opposite me, our mentor sits at one end of the table, and Perlo is at the opposite end. Our mentor is called Ty, and apparently he used to be Raze's trainer. I have a feeling that there may be favouritism to come. There has been minimum conversation between myself and Raze, most of it consisting of him taunting me, or insulting me. Not that I care. He's an idiot. The way Raze is eating makes me want to gag, stuffing his face like this is the last time he will ever consume food in his life. We still have one week until we enter the games, so that shouldn't concern him, since he believes that he will win. Sensing the slightly awkward silence, Perlo exclaims "So! Tomorrow the training will start! Isn't it exciting!" I don't respond, and Raze just nods as he shoves a spoonful of spaghetti in his mouth. Yet again, Perlo tries to carry on the conversation, "Got any talents worth showing off? Handy with any weapons?" If I want to persist with my plan, then I need to stay true to it. I don't reply and just look down, purposefully forcing the blood into my cheeks. Raze notices this, _yes_, and grins. "Yes, in fact." He replies, "I've been training for a whole year using axes. I also do daily fitness training." He says cockily, a wide smile emerging on his face. "Briana, have you got any skills you would like to inform us about?" My strategy is going to plan. I mumble something incomprehensible to them, and Raze's grin widens even more, "What was that? Sorry, I didn't hear you." He is such a bully. I reply, in a quavering voice, "I-I shot a gun a few t-times." Total lie. It doesn't really matter though. "Shame Bri," he says sarcastically, "since guns are not permitted in the arena. Looks like you'll just have to fine a nice little spot and use your high expertise in hide-and-seek, and hope that no one finds you. And don't worry. I sure will be looking." I am finding it really hard to supress a grin. He is falling for it so easily.

I continue to take small nibbles of my food, until I get full. However, Raze is no where near finished, and is still gouging on his. "Not very hungry Briana? I don't blame you - I would be worried too if I knew I was about to die in a week." He is such an idiot. I wipe away an invisible tear and run out of the dining room, about to head towards my bedroom. When I pass the lift, I quickly glance at it, and notice that one of the labels says terrace, and that draws me in. It would be nice to be by myself for a while. I quickly hop over to the lift and press the button, continuously looking to my left and right, double-checking that nobody can see me. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that there are cameras covering every spot in the whole building. We haven't been told that we are not allowed to leave our floor, but I don't think the Capitol would be too happy with me wandering off without an accompaniment. When the lift door slides open, I hop in and press the button for the top floor.

The elevator slowly moves me upwards, going past floor three, then four, then five, and so forth until I reach the terrace. I start thinking about training tomorrow. I'm not going to be training in front of people; I don't want them to see my skill, so I'll have to try and find another time to do it. Maybe I could sneak out in the middle of the night? It's a bit risky, but it is vital that I find the time to practise at some point. I have much higher odds if I am fully prepared. The phrase _'May the odds be ever in your favour' _replay over and over in my head, in an annoying Capitol voice, may I add. That's the thing. The odds aren't in my favour. At all. If they were in my favour then I would not be in this situation at all. I am startled when I hear a loud "Bing!" and the doors open. A blanket of cold air washes over my face when I step out into the dark night. I don't mind it though - its refreshing. All of the buildings here in the Capitol are like a sauna, they must have the heating on full blast constantly of something, and its only autumn. I walk to the balcony and look out into the horizon, where I can see the whole Capitol. This is presumably the tallest building in the Capitol, as it has one floor dedicated to each district to sojourn before they, or should I say we, enter the Hunger Games arena. Although I hate the People from the Capitol, I've got to admit, it is a really beautiful place. It has the active city in the middle, plastered in lights, moving vehicles, and extravagant, brightly coloured people bustling around, yet it has completely peaceful, untouched mountains and hills lining the edge. Shame it has such _annoying _residents, otherwise I would love the place.

**Author's Note: Told you I'd post two today! Feeling pretty proud to be honest :p I'm usually quite busy during the week, so today was the first day in ages that I actually had time to write quite a bit. Please review, follow, favourite or PM me - it would actually mean so much! See you soon :) Bye lovelies 3**

**-Meg**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Ugh." I mumble to myself as my I am woken up to my blaring alarm. 4.45am. Why did I set it for this early? _Oh yeah. _I need to practice my aim in the training room before the others get here. Today I find out who my opponents are. When I think about it I feel a small weight drop in my stomach. Although I am pretty sure I will win, I may know some of the other contestants from my time in the war. In order to survive off the little food we had, I had to do lots of trading with people, which meant I got around and met a lot of new people. I reassure myself that everything will be fine, as I slowly pull myself out of bed, feeling a little stiff. I only have one hour before the other tributes arrive at the training room, so I don't have time to have a shower. I'll have one afterwards.

After hastily getting dressed and brushing my teeth, I groggily walk down the desolate hallways, trying to find the room I require. I remember where it is because previously, we had a tour of the building, so that we know all of the rooms that are crucial to the tributes, but I need help from the maps lining the walls. The training room is in the basement of the building, and has quite dim lighting Although, at the moment, it is basically pitch black due to the fact that nobody else is around yet, which means I keep on loosing my bearings and turning wrong corners.

I finally reach my necessary destination and push the heavy doors open. To my surprise, the lights are on, and they momentarily blind me. I peer into the large room, when I see a tall, muscular figure standing at the other end of the room, with a spear in hand. I'm assuming that he is another tribute. I can only see him from behind, but from his tall, powerful build I've got the impression that I should be very weary of him. He looks dangerous. All of a sudden, he positions his spear behind his head, aims, and thrusts it through the air. He hits dead centre - right where the head would be. My suspicions have been confirmed: he is very dangerous.

I slowly and cautiously take small steps back, not taking my eyes of the anonymous figure, when I trip over my other foot, leading to me falling and thudding on the floor, landing in a giant heap. _Dammit. _He swiftly spins around, grabbing another spear in the process, and faces me. I keep my eyes on him, worried that if I look away for even a moment then he will attack me. I do not trust anyone here. He starts approaching me, and I can feel my body quivering out of nerves. _Don't be such a wimp Briana. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you... at least not before the games,_ I reassure myself. As he comes closer, I can see his features better. I notice he has a _slight _nose arch, but not too extreme, a slim, but not harsh, face, medium-length dark brown hair, and large abs and biceps. I think he is about three years older than me. Looks like he will be Raze's main competition. I wonder what district he's from. I snap out of my daze when I see he is right in front of me. My heart is pumping so fast. What if he tries to kill me? Surprisingly, in contrast, he reaches out his hand, in gesture that he wants to help me up. I take his firm hand and he easily lifts me to my feet. "Thank you." I mutter and begin to turn away to leave, not feeling very safe. His hand grabs my arm, preventing me from going anywhere. "You don't have to leave. You can train too." He tells me. His voice is deep, yet soft - it is very familiar... I don't know why though.

I sigh and make my way over to the targets and weapons. There goes my chance of practicing - I wont allow him to see my proper skills. Whilst we are walking, he asks "What's your name?" I don't know whether I want him knowing my name, but he'll find it out sometime anyway, so I reply, "Brianna." He looks confused, and rather perturbed. "What's wrong? Have you got a problem with my name?" _Idiot. _I'm acting too strong, I need to come across to everyone else as weak. I seem to be digging a deep hole for myself, so I just shut up. After a while, he says "Nothing. Brianna's just not a very common name." _Well done._ "So?" I blurt out. I should probably start thinking before I speak. He chuckles and puts his hands up defensively, "I don't have a problem with your name. I used to know someone called Briana." he adds with a sad smile, "She and I were very close." I don't get why he needed to inform me about that, but I don't really care anyway. "So what district are you from?" He asks, curiously, as we carry on walking. He asks a lot of questions. "District 2." I reply bluntly. As any one has probably already guessed, I'm not the sociable type. "Hmm." He whispers to himself. He seems perplexed. What is with this guy?

He regains his position again in front of the target, which is in the shape of a human body, and throws the spear. He is really good. "Are you in district 1, or 4?" I ask curiously. He must be in one of them, otherwise he wouldn't be that good. He shakes his head. _What? _"What district are you in then?" I continue - now _I'm_ the one asking too many questions. He purses his lips, before hesitating, then replying "District 12." I stare at him in shock. I did not expect someone with such skill and such a good build to be from such a poor district as that. "How come you are so good at that?" I ask, motioning my head towards the spear. I am a bit suspiciously but mostly intrigued. "During the war. Me and my friend would hunt for food. She knew how to set up traps, and I learnt how to shoot and kill animals. We would work together, to get food for our families. That resulted to our survival." he responds. That's exactly what me and Jett used to do. I wonder where Jett is right now. What he is doing, that is, if he is alive. That's when all the pieces fit together, and it all makes sense. That's why his voice is so familiar. A lot can change to someone's appearance in a year. My eyes widen in shock, and he looks questioningly at me. "Jett." I whisper.

**Author's Note: 3 chapters in 2 days! Woop Woop! :p If your reading the authors note then you most probably have read the whole thing - so thank you! I know its only been one year since the war, but they have just both changed a lot. .. that's why they didn't recognise each other. Sorry if it confused you a bit :) See you soon ! Bye 3**

**-Meg**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

_That's when all the pieces fit together, and it all makes sense. That's why he is so familiar. A lot can change to someone's appearance in a year. My eyes widen in shock, and he looks questioningly at me. "Jett." I whisper._

I don't know what to do. Should I be happy, that I have finally been reunited with my best friend, or should I be distressed, as in one week, I will be forced into a large arena with him to fight to the death? He stares at me, with a mixture of shock and awe. I think the things that are going through my head are exactly the same as in his. After a while, he questions me, in a hushed voice, "Bee?" That's the nickname he gave me, and no one else calls me that but him. It feels so good to hear that name again. When I was separated from Jett, it felt like a part of me was missing - a part only Jett could fill, and now that part is back. But not fully. Myself, or someone else will have to kill him in a week. We both stare at each other expectantly, waiting for the other person to make the first move. Eventually, I throw myself at him and he folds me in a big hug. We stand there for while in silence, appreciating one anothers company. I feel a tear slide down my cheek, either because one of us is going to die soon, or because I am so happy to finally see him again. I missed him so much.

He pulls back from the embrace and knits his eyebrows together. "We have _a lot _of catching up to do..." I nod, taking his elbow and pulling him over to the nearest wall. We sit down aside each other, resting our heads against the wall. "So... what happened?" he asks quietly.

I pause. "Well... we went back to district 2. Got a new home, started a new school. I didn't really have any friends though. I missed you so much... I always thought about you and worried about you, you know, because you were in district 12." I am careful with my choice of words; I don't want to offend him or bring back memories that he would rather be omitted from his mind. "Your turn", I say, looking up at him expectantly.

He takes a small breath, and begins "We got sent straight to the seam by random, the poorest section in the district. Then me and my brother Joe tried to rebel. He was executed right in front of my eyes – they knew that would be a worse punishment than death for me. He used to bring the food for the family by working in the coal mine, but after his death it was my responsibility to bring food to the table. I would hunt – like we did during the war – and I guess I just kept on improving my throwing skills. I missed you too…" Wow. I stare at him pityingly. How come he's gone through all that, and the worst that happened to me since after the war is when my pet hamster died…

"Don't look at me like that." He mutters, motioning his head towards my face. I didn't realize that I had been staring at him for that long. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me. Everything that happened made me into a stronger person, as horrible as it may have been." I try and remove the remorseful look from my face, blushing a little in the process.

"I'm so sorry…" is all I say, and then I drop the subject. We sit together in silence for a while. It is not an awkward silence, but a comfortable one. "So… We were both reaped for the Hunger Games. Call it fate? It's like we were meant to be!" I lightly elbow him jokingly, trying to add some light to the horrible situation we have been placed in.

"Seriously, out of everyone fate could have put me with, it was you?! What did I do so wrong to be punished like this?" He exclaims dramatically, and I punch him in the shoulder – not so lightly this time. He brings his hand up to where I punched him and hunches his broad shoulders, pouting. "Feisty.", he utters and I roll my eyes. It's so nice to have my best friend back, even if it's not for long.

I still don't know how I didn't recognise my best friend as soon as I saw him – its only been a year! The seam must have changed him, and I'm sure district 2 changed me. Jett would only recognise me if I was filthy, covered in mud and dirt, wearing rags as a poor excuse for clothes, and so skinny that you could see every single bone, sticking out in all directions. In the war, we caught minimal food, and gave most of it to our families, who were ill. Now, I have one hot meal a day, and lunch and breakfast, which have helped me to increase in weight. After I acknowledge the silence that lingers in the air, I say "We've both changed – we didn't even recognise each other… which is strange because I thought about you all the time, back at home" I cringe as I realize what I said. It sounds creepy and weird. To my surprise, he replies, "You were always on my mind, despite all of the other worries I had to think about, I still worried about you. Wondered about you. Missed you. A lot." A warm feeling fills me when I realize how amazing my best friend is. So caring and thoughtful.

"Got any fighting skills? Word got around that your district have been paying for weaponry training", he asks curiously. Instead of answering him, I stand up and approach the table which holds the throwing knifes. I can tell that these knifes must have been terribly expensive, since they are much better quality than the ones we have at home – much sharper, defined edges. That is to be expected though. When they Capitol regained power, they received most of the money and the riches. Although our district 2 is one of the richest districts, in comparison to the Capitol, we are the equivalent of peasants. Everybody in the Capitol lives in grand, eloquent houses, and dine in luxury restaurants every night. It seemed that the rebellion just made the Capitol more selfish and inconsiderate, which is the complete opposite to what we wanted. We wanted freedom. We wanted equality. And most of all, we wanted justice.

I wrap my long fingers over the cold metal of the three knives, and proceed to the targets. I take one knife in my right hand and two in my left. Steadily, I raise my right hand next to my ear, position it correctly, and throw as hard as I can, making a flicking motion to ensure that it spins. Before that knife has even hit the target, I do the same again with the other two knifes, stealthily and confidently. I hear three loud thuds, one after the other, and look up to see my results. One knife is planted right where the head would be, one in the heart, and one on the stomach. Exactly where I aimed them to me. Only now to I recognize how truly dangerous I have the potential to be. Before I didn't even realize my strengths, as I never thought I would _actually _be chosen for the Hunger Games, so I didn't even consider it. Although I may have the ability to plant the knife wherever I want it to go, when the time comes to it, will I be able to throw that knife? Will I be able to kill someone? Could I do that to someone who doesn't want to be in this situation just as much as me? That will be my weakness in the arena, and it may well be the end of me too.


End file.
